


Don't Worry About It

by ptrckstmp



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Anxiety, Blood, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, um i suck at tagging things sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 09:27:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11643693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ptrckstmp/pseuds/ptrckstmp
Summary: MJ tries not to worry, but it's really really hard not to when your boyfriend is Spider-Man





	Don't Worry About It

**Author's Note:**

> I GUESS I WRITE SPIDER-MAN FANFICTION NOW.  
> Anyway, I haven't stopped thinking about Homecoming since I saw it opening week. Also I haven't written anything in months. Also also I read through this maybe once before posting it, sorry for any mistakes.

Michelle had a lot on her mind. She had just started her senior year of high school and was already having to worry about tests and college acceptance letters and what to do with the beginning of the rest of her life. But most pressing on her mind was her boyfriend, Queen’s own web-slinging vigilante. Peter had told her about Spider-Man shortly after they started dating last year, but it hadn’t gotten easier. She was constantly aware that he was _out there_ every night, fighting bad guys in nothing but a spandex suit. Granted, it was a _really cool_ spandex suit, but it didn’t offer much in the way of physical protection.

He was supposed to come by her house after dinner so that they could study for their physics test, but he was late. Again. MJ was sitting on her full sized bed, back against the wall, ankles crossed under her. She was holding a book, but she couldn’t concentrate on the words, just reading the same passages over and over again. Her mind was still focused on Peter. He was supposed to be here half an hour ago and while she knew that he had probably just gotten distracted, she couldn’t help but wonder if her boyfriend was bleeding out in an alley somewhere, or sinking to the bottom of a river.

Just then she heard a gentle knock on her front door, and she heard her dad open it.

“Peter!” he exclaimed. “Good to see you. MJ’s in her room.”

“Thank you Mr. Jones.” Peter said, sounding slightly out of breath. “Good to see you too.” There was the sound of shoes being kicked off, and Peter’s socked feet padding down the hallway. He knocked twice on her bedroom door before pushing it open. MJ didn’t bother to stand up, but she did put her book down. 

“Sorry I’m late.” He said sheepishly. “I got held up helping a little kid find his mom. His name is Edgar and he was probably about 5 years old and he was so cute. Anyway, we found her. She was looking for him too.” He ran his hand through the front of his hair, looking awkward and realizing he had been rambling. “Sorry.” He said again, just for good measure.

MJ didn’t say anything, just leveled him with a cool stare. “I told you not to do that.” She said, picking up her book again and turning the page. In reality she was incredibly glad to see him, and incredibly thankful that she couldn’t see any new bruises or another limp.

“I know MJ, I’m so sorry.” he said, climbing onto the bed next to her. “I’ll try to remember to text you next time, I promise. I’m trying to get better. I know you worry.”

“I do not.” She snapped, maybe a little too quickly. “I know you can handle yourself out there. I’m not a clingy girlfriend.” She knew she was lying. The look he gave her made it seem like he did too.

“Can I make it up to you?” He asked, shifting so he was sitting next to her and kissing her jaw. She allowed one corner of her mouth to turn up in a small smile before she pushed him away.

“No, you smell like sweat and we have to study for the test. Maybe if you bring me some of Aunt May’s brownies I know she made for you today to school tomorrow I’ll think about forgiving you.” She said. He grinned.

“Sure thing.” He paused. “Do I really smell gross?” He asked, turning his nose to sniff at his shirt. 

“Peter, I’m not sure how you think you can sprint around Queens all day in that tight suit and not smell like sweaty teenager when you’re done. Of course you smell gross. Luckily for you, you have an incredibly tolerant girlfriend who is able to ignore it most of the time. Now go grab my notes from my desk.”

He grinned again. MJ wished he would stop, she wasn’t trying to be funny. He kissed her on the cheek. She shoved him away, harder this time.

“Dork.” She muttered under her breath as she watched him slide off of the bed and grab her physics notebook. She really tried not to worry, but it was hard.

 

 

As senior year wore on, Michelle found herself getting more and more antsy. The coursework was getting harder, the studying had intensified and Peter had been staying out later and later. She was sure that any day now she was going to snap. Every siren made her jump, every bruise on her boyfriend’s face (no matter how fast they seemed to heal) made her heart beat faster, every mention of a bank robbery or a shooting made her give into the urge to text Peter, “just to check in”. To his credit, he had been getting better at texting her back, and calling when he was going to be late. But it didn’t stop MJ from worrying. She wondered how May did it.

The final straw came late one Friday night. She was sitting on Ned’s floor, back against the bed, explaining to him why representation of females mattered in the film industry mattered while ‘Wonder Woman’ played in the background on her laptop. Peter was supposed to come, but he had sent a message to the group chat about an hour ago saying he was going to be late, but should be there by 10.

It was 9:50 when there was a knock on Ned’s window. MJ rolled her eyes. She could always trust Peter to make a dramatic entrance, swinging through windows and shit. Ned stood up and unlatched the window. As soon as he pushed it open Peter stumbled in. It didn’t take a genius to realize that something was wrong. Seriously wrong. Peter immediately crumpled to the floor with a moan, hands clasping at his stomach. Ned just stood there in shock, clearly not understanding exactly what was happening. MJ was by Peter’s side in a heartbeat, hands hovering over him hesitantly.

“What the hell Peter.” She said, cupping his cheek and turning his face towards her. She pulled his mask off and he whimpered slightly. The left side of his face was purple and blue, his eye swelling shut. The rest of his face was pale, save for the red coming from his nose and smeared above his lip. His good eye met hers.

“Sorry.” He mumbled. Red coated his teeth. MJ was going to faint. She wished he would stop saying sorry.

“Ned, do something! Get me towels, water, bandages, _something._ ” She said, trying not to panic. Ned snapped into action and rushed out of the room. MJ pushed Peter’s hands away from his abdomen, trying to assess the damage.

“Peter, what do I do? How did this happen?” She asked, feeling his blood seep onto her fingers as she touched his stomach.

“They had guns,” he explained, “there were too many of them. Not fast enough.” MJ shook her head minutely, curls falling into her face. “I think—“ he stopped, wheezing, eye squeezing shut. “I think I need to go to the hospital.” He opened his eye again. His breathing was labored and a fine sheen of sweat was coating his forehead.

“Dumbass, why did you come here then instead of going straight there? I swear Parker if you bleed out on Ned’s bedroom floor while I’m watching I’m going to be so mad.” MJ tried to ignore the tears misting in her eyes.

“Still in the Spidey suit. Can’t give it away.” He took another shuddering breath.

Ned came rushing in, a stack of towels under one arm, a couple of water bottles under the other.

“We only have band-aids.” He said, looking as panicked as MJ felt. “No bandages or anything.”

“We need to get him out of his suit and to the hospital. Do you have something he can wear?” MJ asked, holding her hand out for a towel, which Ned gave her. He nodded and set the rest of the things down, hurriedly pulling out a worn pair of sweatpants at a Stark Industries shirt that Peter had probably given to him. He had a lot of them. 

It took some effort for the ~~three~~ two of them to wrangle Peter out of his suit. He wasn’t much help, mostly lying there numbly and yelping whenever they moved him wrong. MJ’s heart was in her throat the whole time. Maybe while they were at the hospital she could be treated for the heart attack she was sure she was having.

Eventually they were making their way down to Ned’s car, Peter being supported between his two best friends, an arm over each of their shoulders, towel pressed tightly to his wounded stomach, blood already coating his shirt. Thankfully there was no one in hallways of the apartment complex, it was too late for there to be much traffic. MJ took a few seconds in the elevator to readjust her hold on her limp boyfriend. He whimpered again as she tightened her grip on his waist. She ignored him.

Ned sped as fast as his 2001 Toyota Camry would take them to the nearest hospital. MJ half hoped they would get pulled over as she sat in the backseat, Peter’s head cradled in her lap, her fingers running through his knotted hair. She was way out of her depth. She didn’t want to watch Peter die here, what if they hadn’t been fast enough? What if they had done something wrong? Despite his accelerated healing, he clearly wasn’t invincible. What if this time it was too much for him? She held his hand like it was the only thing keeping him here on earth. He didn’t squeeze back.

30 minutes later Ned and MJ were both slumped in the hard chairs in the waiting room of the hospital, covered in their best friend’s blood and shaking as the adrenaline began to wear off. Aunt May came bursting in. She had clearly been crying. MJ had texted her, told her what had happened, told her where to go. The official story was that the three of them had been caught in a mugging gone wrong. Aunt May knew what really happened. MJ sagged in the older woman’s embrace. Aunt May held her tighter than she’d ever been held before.

 

 

MJ shot up in bed, breaths coming out in harsh pants. She sat there for a second, trying to remember where she was, trying to remind herself that it was just a dream. She reached out for her phone and checked the time. 4:30 am. She texted Peter anyway.

_MJ: hey dork_

She took a few deep breaths, then swung her legs out of bed. She went to the kitchen to get a drink, and when she came back there was a new message on her phone.

_Peter: hey. u ok?_

A second later his face appeared on her screen, her phone buzzing with his incoming call. She answered it and held it up to her ear, but couldn’t find something to say. She didn’t need to, however, Peter started talking as soon as she answered.

“Do I need to come over?” He asked, voice gravelly with sleep. She shook her head, then realized he couldn’t see her.

“No.” She said into the receiver. “I just had another nightmare. It’s good to hear your voice.”

There was a beat of silence on the phone.

“I’m sorry.” Peter finally said. MJ huffed out a laugh.

“You need to stop saying that.” She said wearily.

“But it’s my fault. You deserve better.” He said. Maybe she did. She wasn’t sure she could handle the anxiety any more.

“I love you.” She said instead. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Thanks to you.” He said, and she could hear his smile.

“Will you read to me?” She asked, not knowing what else to say, but not wanting to hang up on him. She heard shuffling in the background, and then Peter’s voice reading aloud from _The Hobbit_. She smiled, settling back into her pillows, listening to Peter read from what she knew was his favorite book. She closed her eyes and replaced the images from earlier of Peter dying in her arms with images of Peter, comforter pulled around his shoulders, well worn and dog-eared paperback in his hands, hair tousled from the sleep she woke him from. She drifted off to the soothing sound of his voice.

When she woke up again her phone was on the pillow next to her, the call with Peter still connected. She pressed the speaker up to her ear, taking comfort in the soft sounds of his breaths from the other side of Queens. He hadn’t died that night, and that’s what matters right? She was trying to convince herself so, but the increase in nightmares and the spike in her anxiety levels as of late were screaming at her otherwise. She sighed softly before disconnecting the call.

 

 

She pulled Peter into an empty classroom after school. The only physical evidence from that night two weeks earlier were 3 small scars on his stomach, and some leftover pain that Peter lied about, saying he felt fine. MJ felt anything but.

She crossed her arms. “I think we should break up.” She said before she could chicken out. It was straight and to the point. She had rehearsed this conversation in her head a thousand times.

Peter’s face fell immediately, but he didn’t protest. “If that’s what you want.” He said softly. That wasn’t what the Peter in her head had said when MJ practiced this conversation. She rolled with it though.

“It is.” She said, nodding. 

“I’m sorry.” He said. “You deserve better.” She had heard those words before, just a few nights earlier. She felt her heart constrict. But she just nodded again.

“Stay safe out there.” She replied. He pursed his lips, huffing out a humorless laugh through his nose. She turned to go. He didn’t stop her.

 

 

And just like that it was over. Michelle tried to convince herself that she didn’t miss him, but that night she wrapped herself in the hoodie he had left at her house and breathed in the scent of Aunt May’s dryer sheets and Peter’s cologne and she cried. But it would be fine. At least now she wouldn’t have to worry anymore.

But the thing was that just because she wasn’t dating him anymore didn’t mean she didn’t worry about him anymore, which was just unfair, in her opinion.

 

 

It had been a week since they broke up. Things were civil, if not a little awkward. He smiled at her in the hallways still. She averted her eyes. He still came to decathlon meetings. She pretended like everything was fine.

 

 

It had been three weeks since they broke up. Peter looked more exhausted every day. He came to school with a limp one day. “Tripped on my way to school.” He explained to Coach Wilson with a tired smile. Coach Wilson let him sit out on PE that day. He fell asleep sitting against the wall and Flash Thompson called him out on it. Ned looked worried. Michelle was worried too. She tried not to look it though. 

 

 

It had been a month since they broke up. Peter missed school for three days. After the first day Ned asked Michelle if she had seen him. Her heart leapt in fear. This is what she wanted to avoid. She told him no. He said he’d keep her updated. She said she didn’t care. He already knew she did. When Peter came back he pretended like nothing had happened. “I had the flu.” He explained when Michelle asked. She appreciated the effort, but she also wanted to punch him in the face.

 

 

It had been two months since they broke up. It was pouring rain outside, and Michelle hated that her first thought was Peter. She hoped he wasn’t out there, that he was somewhere safe and dry. She tried to tell herself she didn’t care. She tugged his hoodie closer around her.

It had been two and a half months since they broke up. The news anchor was talking about a collapsed bridge. Michelle could see a grainy image of a blue and red clad boy swinging across the broken bridge, webs holding up several cars, people running to the other side. Everyone was safe. Spider-Man was a hero. Michelle asked her dad to change the channel.

 

 

It had been four months since they broke up. Michelle aced her AP tests. She was accepted into her first choice college. The only person in the school with a higher SAT score was Peter. He congratulated her after school, his face splitting into a grin. He looked like he hadn’t showered in a couple of days. Michelle rolled her eyes at him and told him he smelled. “It’s the suit.” He replied. “I guess I never really learn, huh?” She knew it wasn’t just the suit.

 

 

It had been five months since they broke up. The sun was setting and Michelle was on her way home from the grocery store, a plastic bag in each hand and her headphones shoved into her ears.

“Give me your money.” She dropped the bags, startled by the voice in front of her. She used one hand to pop an earbud out.

“I’m sorry I didn’t quite hear you,” she said, squinting her eyes and cocking her head. “You’re not trying to…rob me, are you?” She asked. It sounded like a threat. Her hand went for the pepper spray she usually kept on her backpack before she remembered that she wasn’t wearing her backpack. The man in front of her raised his gun, hand trembling slightly.

“You’re new at this, aren’t you? Is this your first mugging?” She asked, bending down to pick up her bags again. A shot rang out, fired into the sky. Michelle jumped.

“Just shut up and give me your money, I’m not afraid to lodge the next bullet in your brain.” He said, gesturing wildly with his gun.

“Woah, okay, if you insist. But this is no way to treat a lady.” She said, reaching into her back pocket for her wallet.

“You know what, I think I have to agree with you.” Both Michelle and the mugger spun to look at the voice, which was coming from a fire escape above them. “I think if you _really_ want to get girls you need to give _them_ money, not the other way around.” Michelle knew that voice. Her eyes widened.

The mugger swung the gun up to point at Spider-Man’s chest. Michelle watched in horror as he pulled the trigger, bullet heading straight towards the spider symbol on the chest. Her lungs constricted as she thought about the last time a bullet had met his flesh. But Spider-Man swung down and out of the way easily, web attached to the fire escape he had been sitting on moments before and feet coming up to kick the mugger in the chest. A second later the mugger was webbed to the sidewalk, hands to the side of his head, unable to move.

“Pe—“ MJ stopped herself. “Spider-Man.” She said instead. “What are you doing here?” 

“Protecting the citizens of Queens.” He said happily. She could picture his face under the mask, his slightly wonky nose from where he had broken it when he was younger and it had never quite set properly, his impossibly thin lips, his scraggly-ass eyebrows. And she hated it. Because she didn’t want to admit it to herself, and especially not to him, but she missed him. 

“Well, I don’t need protecting, but thanks for making the trip out here anyway.” She said, stepping over the immobile would-be-mugger and making her way home. He jogged to catch up with her.

“Do you need me to walk you home?” He asked, sounding eager. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on her part.

“No. Don’t you have little boys to reunite with their mothers?” She quipped. She didn’t know why she was being so hostile. Perhaps because it was what she knew best. He stopped short on the sidewalk. She continued onwards.

“Stay safe out there.” He called after her. She flipped him off without turning around.

He thought he was being sneaky but she saw him follow her all the way up to the door of her house. It made her heart beat a little faster.

 

 

It had been 5 months and 1 week since they broke up. Peter asked her to prom.

“You know we broke up, right?” She said, not looking up from her book, which was propped on the cafeteria table.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, voice cracking a little, “but I miss being your friend.” She huffed. “C’mon MJ, I miss you. Please, just one night. We don’t even have to go out to dinner or anything beforehand. Just the dance and then I’ll take you straight home.”

“Fine, loser. Sure, whatever, I’ll go with you.” She looked up from her book. “But if you ditch me to fight some bad guy I’m going to be fucking pissed Parker.”

He nodded earnestly, eyes wide and serious. “Oh I won’t I promise.” She snorted.

“Now leave me alone and let me read. Don’t you have a Hogwarts castle to build out of Legos with Ned or something.”

“It’s the Avenger’s Tower.” He mumbled under his breath, turning to walk away. MJ rolled her eyes, but she was secretly smiling on the inside. At least he had admitted that he missed her first.

 

 

“You look great.” Was the first thing Peter said to her when she opened the door. He had that dopey grin on his face, and his tie was a little crooked.

“I’m smart too, Parker.” She said, shutting the door behind her. “Looks aren’t everything.”

“Well, I guess I’m lucky that my date for the night has both looks _and_ brains then. The best of everything!” He held his arm out for her to take. She ignored it.

“You’re trying too hard, tiger.” She said, walking past him. He shrugged, grin still plastered on his face. It’s like he couldn’t be in a bad mood if he tried.

 

 

Peter, true to his word, dropped her off right after the dance was done and hadn’t even ditched her once. He was walking away from her house when he stopped and turned on his heel.

“MJ?” He called to her. She paused, hand on the handle of her front door. “Can I ask you something?”

“What is it Parker?” She asked, turning to face him as well.

He paused, clearly unsure of himself, before he blurted out, “Why did you break up with me?” His face immediately turned pink, but he didn’t back out of his question. MJ thought about lying, or maybe just not answering at all, but she decided that he deserved to know.

“It was the anxiety.” She finally said. He cocked his head to one side, clearly confused. “I was always worrying about you Peter. And especially after that night where you got—Where you came through Ned’s—When we had to take you to the hospital,” she said, stumbling over her words, “I couldn’t handle it anymore. I’ve never had nightmares like that, I saw you die every night in my sleep and then when I was awake I was so aware that those dreams could very possibly become a reality. I thought the distance would help. 

His eyes were focused on his shoes, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Did it?” He asked, softly.

“No.” She answered honestly. “I still worry.”

“I’m sorry.” He said and she laughed out loud.

“Liz was right, you say that so much I’m not even sure what you’re apologizing for anymore.” She saw him stiffen. She regretted it immediately.

“Please don’t bring her into this. Not…not tonight.” He said, still not looking up from his shoes. And then he turned back around and got in his car and he left. MJ was left standing on her porch, trying to decide how she really felt about that boy, and what she was going to do about it. Life, she decided, was easier when feelings weren’t involved.

 

 

“Hey Pete, thanks for the good time last Saturday.” MJ said, leaning against the locker next to his.

“Well, it went better than the last school dance I went to.” He said, shutting his locker and spinning the dial.

“What girl ruined your last school dance?” She asked, falling into step beside him. “I’ll punch her for you.” He laughed.

“Not a girl actually, her dad. And his big metal bird suit. Surely you remember him? Crashed a big jet full of expensive things on Coney Island?” He adjusted the straps of his backpack, pulling it tighter against his back. 

“Oh shit. You haven’t been to a school dance since homecoming freshman year?” MJ asked, eyes wide.

“Well, I’m not exactly a hit with the ladies.” He said. “Even at this nerd school I’m too geeky for most of them. They prefer brawns over brain and all that.” He threw a smile her way and she blushed, looking down at the floor.

“Little do they know that you have both. You’re excellent at hiding it though, if I hadn’t seen you shirtless I’d think you were a wimp too.” She tucked a curl behind his ear and bumped against his shoulder. “Besides, I think I know one girl who prefers brains over brawn anyway.” Peter stopped dead in the hallway, and it took MJ a couple of steps to realize he wasn’t walking next to her anymore. She turned around to look at him.

“Is it you?” He asked, eyes sparkling.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She said. Then after a beat, “but yes.” His face stretched into a smile and she waited for him to catch up to her before she began walking again.

“Michelle Jones, are you asking me to be your boyfriend?” He said, still looking at her like he was a little love struck.

“Well, I figure, if I’m going to worry _anyway_ , I might as well do it and _also_ get to see your nice abs.” She said, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Yeah, okay, I think I could be down with that.” He said. She wasn’t sure who reached for who’s hand first, but as his fingers slotted through hers felt like she had come home. MJ made a mental note to ask May how she did it, how she loved this reckless kid who spent his evenings in the sketchiest parts of town taking down bad guys without worrying herself to an early grave.

 

 

The next time it rained in Queens MJ didn’t worry, because she knew her boyfriend was somewhere safe and warm. She ran her fingers through his freshly washed hair and watched his chest rise and fall peacefully in his sleep, his head cradled in her lap as she read aloud from _The Hobbit_. A crack of thunder startled him awake and he sat up quickly, panic in his eyes, startling MJ as well. He blinked once, twice, then mumbled “sorry,” before laying back down on her lap and closing his eyes again.

“Don’t worry about it,” MJ said, picking back up where she left off and letting the soft sounds of the rainstorm and the warm weight of Peter pressed against her, warm and safe, soothe her. She pulled his hoodie a little tighter around her.

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment if you want I guess ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


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